Drinking with a Friend
by BatKate
Summary: Dick gets dumped. He and Barbara get drunk. Things get complicated.


**I love these two drunk. I should really try to write them drunk more often. This was also my attempt at practicing present tense, which is definitely out of my comfort zone.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice.**

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"… And that's when Whitney tells me she 'wants her space,'" Dick says, doing his best attempt at quotation marks in his inebriated state.

"Ugh, I ha—ate that," Barbara slurs and finishes her gin and tonic. She shakes her glass at Dick, who grabs it, hops off his shag carpet and dashes to mix her another drink. "If you don't want to date someone, just fucking say it, right? Needing your space is such a lame excuse," she says while she combs her fingers through the fibers of the carpet. The roaring fireplace is flickering warm light on her in his otherwise pitch-black high-rise while the chaotic sounds of a wintry Bludhaven leak in from the doors out to his balcony.

"You know," he says while he pours, "I'm kind of relieved. It's terrible to say it, but it's not like we had anything in common."

"What did you see in her anyway?"

"I don't know," he says while swigging his beer, "She honestly seemed nice at first but then little things came out now and then. Like, she had a fake laugh no matter how funny a joke was. And she was always rude to servers."

"And to me," Barbara adds.

"Wait, really?" Dick says while he hands her the now-filled glass and went back to grab his soon-to-be-fifth beer.

"_Oh yeah_," she laughs with a hiccup. "Remember Bruce's Halloween Gala? She kept mentioning how my Catwoman costume was 'adventurous' but then constantly called it slutty when she thought I couldn't hear her."

"Why didn't you tell me!" Dick is genuinely upset about the whole idea, but Barbara shrugs.

"Wasn't worth stirring up drama for a girl I knew wouldn't last long," she says while adjusting her emerald green cashmere sweater, "I figured it was just jealousy."

"Because we're so close?"

"Because I looked so good," she says with a twinkle in her eye.

Dick's sly smile comes out and he pounces on her. Any other girl would be pinned down, but Barbara Gordon isn't just some girl — she's giving him a run for his money. Of course, somewhere along the line the wrestling changes to rolling and hugging and flat-out laughing. Laying on their sides with their arms still in a big hug, Dick's jeans are intertwined with hers and his chin is resting on her shoulder and it just feels … right.

"For the record," Dick mutters into her ear, "there was nothing wrong with your Catwoman costume. You looked great." She giggles. Mind fuzzy from the drinks and just so happy in the moment, Dick gives her a giddy peck on the neck. And with just a moment's pause, a long kiss on her neck. And when she doesn't protest (far from it - her fingers are making happy, lazy circles on his back), his mouth stays there because her skin tastes sweet and her hair smells so good and why oh why has he never done this before. Thoughts still hazy, his hands are roaming now as he lavish attention on that space just under her ear. He swears he can hear a moan come from Barbara's throat, but—

"Dick, _stop_."

The tempest in his stomach quickly changes from ecstasy to dread. He pulls away just slightly, keeping his arms around her. She doesn't look happy.

"Why did you tell me to come here tonight, Dick?" The words leave her lips as a whisper, her voice strained and tentative. The fire's glow lights her face and she looks beautiful and he wants her but he's drunk and terrified he crossed the line and—

"I needed my best friend," his voice croaks. Her face falls into disappointment.

"Got it," she says. She sits up and scoots away from him. "You know, I have to get up early for class tomorrow. Maybe drinking tonight wasn't a good idea. I should probably go home."

"Babs, I —"

"You can't _do_ this, Dick," She says with her arm around her torso as if she's going to be sick. She can't seem to look him in the face. "I want to be your friend, but you can't hold me like that and kiss me and then tell me we're pals."

She pauses. "I was asked out today. A perfectly nice guy in my lit class asked me to a movie. And I told him no."

"I — I don't understand," Dick says.

"I told him no because I have feelings for you," she says with a hitch. "Because you're the most beautiful person I know, inside and out. Because sometimes I look at you and …" she trailed off, "But it's stupid, because you invite me over every time you need to talk about girls and you tell me how much I mean to you but it's always as a friend. And that's fine! I mean it, it's OK if you just see me like that, but I'm tired, Dick. I'm tired of hoping for something that's never going to—"

He leans forward and closes the distance between them, putting his palms on either side of her face and pressing his lips to hers. In that one kiss is years of tension and passion and _want_. It's everything he's wanted to say but couldn't. And even spiked with gin, her lips are just as wonderful as he's imagined. But after the shock of the moment dies, Barbara tenses and pulls away.

"_Don't_. Don't do this to make me stay and don't you _dare_ do this out of pity." She stumbles up and goes to get her coat. Dick thinks for a moment before—

"What are you doing tomorrow night?"

She stops and turns back towards him. "Why?"

"I want to take you out."

"Dick—"

"On a date. A real, official, could-start-dating-you date. Because I _do_," Dick stands up, "I _do_ want to date you. Goddamn it Babs, do you know how long I've wanted to date you?"

Barbara pauses, wringing her hands. The apartment is dead silent until she responds, "… How long?"

Dick exhales and it's only now that he realizes he had been holding his breath. "Since 9th grade. Maybe even before that, but I distinctly remember wanting to kiss you at your 13th birthday party. Jesus, I want to kiss you _now_." Empowered by the alcohol and the sense memory of her skin on his lips, the truth is slipping out of him like water. "And before you say it, it's _not_ because I'm drunk and it's _not_ a rebound. It's because my best friend is the most wonderful woman I know and I want to be with her." They stand in silence on opposite sides of the room for a few moments before she replies with a single word.

"…Wonderful?"

Dick sighs. "Wonderful. Beautiful. Just goddamn amazing. You're freaking Batgirl, for crying out loud. And I'm crazy about you."

Somehow she's come back to his side of the room so she's face to face. She looks him in the eye and says the one thing he wasn't expecting. The one thing that can make his heart skip a beat.

"I don't want to go home tonight," she whispers. He moves his hand to caress her jawline and kisses her gently. He lays her down on the carpet, enjoying the feel of her lips and how soft her hair is through his fingers. Exhausted and still a little drunk, they pull down cushions and the afghan from his couch and end up falling asleep in each other's arms. In the morning, a sober Dick Grayson lets Barbara sleep in, sneaking into the other room and calling Giovanni's, the neighborhood's best Italian restaurant, to reserve a table for two.


End file.
